


War in Your Bedroom

by Silent-Wordsmith (Shatteredsand)



Series: Awkward Conversations [4]
Category: Carmilla (Web Series)
Genre: Biting, Blood Drinking, Bloodplay, Doesn't realize she's the power-bottom!Laura, Dom!Carmilla, F/F, Marking, Multi, Polyamory, Power Play, Threesome, Threesome - F/F/F, Vampire bite related, Werewolf!Danny, sub!Danny
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-25
Updated: 2014-11-25
Packaged: 2018-02-27 00:48:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2672663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shatteredsand/pseuds/Silent-Wordsmith
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Laura is pretty sure that if one of them—or both of them; preferably both of them—doesn’t give her an orgasm in the next twenty-four hours she is going to spontaneously combust from all the sexual frustration.</p>
            </blockquote>





	War in Your Bedroom

**Author's Note:**

> AN: The OT3 smut that was the original purpose of even starting this series that someway, somehow, got pushed back to Fic IV. Stupid plot being all demanding and whatnot.
> 
> AN2: The sheer number of times I had to get up and walk away from writing this fic because it was too much for my little Ace heart…Let that stand as a warning in and of itself.

Three weeks. Laura has been dating the two most ridiculously attractive women she’s ever set eyes on for three weeks, and she’s _still_ a virgin. It’s been three weeks of pie dates with Danny, held hands and kisses that promise more without demanding it. Three weeks of Carmilla cuddling up to her to watch movies on LaF’s yet to be returned laptop, fingers in her hair and lips on her skin, distracting and tempting. Three weeks of heated make-out sessions between the three of them, so close to finally getting where Laura desperately wants to go.

Three weeks of one disaster popping up after another, leaving her aching and wanting and so, so incredibly frustrated.

Just once—once!—Laura wants the dragon/zombie turf wars and the kraken in the school fountain and the displaced ghosts from Dorm 666 and the carnivorous merpeople on the swim team to stop causing drama so she can finally, finally _get laid_. She’s not asking for much here. She’s saved this entire school from a god and its cadre of vampire cult members, and had continued to wage war on the more menacing aspects of everyday Silas life like random Alchemy experiments gone rogue and inter-species disputes, and she just wants to have one day where she can safely laze about in bed with her beautiful lady loves without having to worry whether the campus will still be in one piece when she gets up.

Laura sighs unhappily, eyes darting to the clock and willing this class to just be _over_ already. It’s negligent, and she really should be paying attention to the lecture. But all Laura can think about is that Carmilla will be waking up soon and Danny’s last class let out a whole hour ago and they’re both going to be available for kissing.

Laura looks at the clock again. Fifteen more minutes. Fifteen more minutes and Laura can have sleepy snuggly kisses with her vampire until Danny comes by to hang out. Fifteen more minutes. She can do this.

Laura can’t do this. Fifteen minutes is entirely too long. Quietly packing up her things and making vague promises to herself that she’ll pay attention extra hard next time and cram an extra twenty minutes of studying in before bed, Laura slinks out of the class. The professor doesn’t seem to notice, or maybe he just doesn’t care; Laura can’t possibly be the first student to ever leave a lecture before it’s finished.

OooO

Technically, Danny knows that she’s more than welcome to wait for Laura inside her room. Carmilla will mostly likely still be sleeping off her night of vampiric activity, and even if she were awake she wouldn’t do anything but make some kind of snide comment. It wouldn’t even be a particularly vicious one; Carmilla had taken Laura’s glaring lecture to “try and get along with one another” just as seriously as Danny had. They’d agreed to form this little trio for Laura, to put an end to her miserable waffling between them. Neither of them is eager to replace the stress of indecision with the stress of warring lovers.

Still, Danny hovers outside the door. It isn’t locked—it’s never locked no matter how many times she or Carmilla points out that this is Silas, and it’s _dangerous_ —she could let herself in without any effort at all. But then she’d be in the dorm. With Carmilla. Alone. An event Danny has been careful about recreating since the Wardrobe Incident.

She rolls her eyes at herself at the mental classification. She’s twenty-one, a grown ass woman; she should be able to call it like it is. Since that time she and Carmilla had _fucked_ against the wardrobe. Except that feels as much like a lie of omission as ‘wardrobe incident’ even in her own thoughts. But she doesn’t think she ready to address the reality of it. Not yet.

It isn’t relevant, anyways. This is about _Laura_ , has _always_ been about Laura. If Danny focuses everything through that focal point, the other thing she can’t-won’t-can’t think about doesn’t even matter.

The door swings open and it takes every moment of her lifetime of training not to jump. Godsdammit, she should be better than that. But vampires don’t have heartbeats, and they don’t breathe, and Carmilla has long since mastered the art of moving without sound.

“Either come in or have your little existential crisis somewhere else, some of us are trying to sleep.”

Danny bristles because fuck her, she wasn’t having an existential crisis or anything else so dramatic. “I was just waiting for Laura, leech.”

“Sure thing.” Carmilla smirks, leaving the door wide open as she returns to her bed. “I, too, often reek with the stench of panic and confusion whilst waiting for the cupcake.”

Danny doesn’t have a response to that, other than to silently curse that Carmilla has senses just as sharp as her own, so she enters the room without a word, slamming the door closed behind her.

Carmilla is sprawled across her own bed, Laura’s yellow pillow crushed between one pale arm and the back of her head. She’s fully dressed—Danny isn’t actually sure she’s ever seen the vampire in anything that could be even loosely termed as sleepwear—and lounging lackadaisically with apparent disregard to the fact that she’s wearing combat boots in her bed. Danny assumes it’s because the useless vampire is too lazy to worry about doing laundry; she probably makes Laura do it for her, the bitch.

“I don’t _reek_ of anything.” It’s a lie, a blatant lie that everyone in the room would know was a lie even if they couldn’t hear the stuttering of her heart beneath the words and smell the harsh scents still clinging to her skin.

“Mmhmm.” Carmilla doesn’t deign to look at her, eyes closed and apparently dozing. “It’s not a big deal, you know.”

Danny’s stomach flips, inexplicably, even though she has no idea what the vampire is going on about now. “Bite me.”

The words slip off her tongue without thought, and she wants to groan the moment they do because, _vampire_ , duh. Carmilla wouldn’t bite her, would know better than to tempt Laura’s ire by attacking Danny over a throw away comment, but still. Danny should know better than to give her an opening like that.

“One day, gingersnap.” Carmilla cracks open one eye, her lips twisting into a vicious smirk full of the kind of promises Danny doesn’t want her to make. “If you’re a good girl.”

To her dying day, Danny will deny the effect Carmilla’s words—her promise?—have on her. Because even if they can both scent it in the air, Danny has far too much pride to admit how terribly, terribly wet she just got at the mere idea of maybe, one day, having Carmilla’s fangs at her throat.

“Fuck you.” There’s a bit more snarl in her response than she’d intended, but everything about Carmilla brings the wolf bounding to the surface. The leech’s presence a greater exercise in control than any of the training she’d undergone in her youth.

“You did.” She doesn’t even sound smug. She could be rattling off an address from the phonebook for all the emotion in those words.

“You’re such a bitch.”

“That would be you, I do believe. Whimpering like you’d never needed anything like you needed me to get you off.”

Another surge of something, unnamable and unknowable and so desperately needy. But Danny bites her tongue this time, literally, the taste of iron between her teeth. Laura will be back soon, Danny doesn’t want to be in the middle of another asinine argument with Carmilla when she gets here. It’ll make her mad, or sad, or both.

Silence descends, though Danny can see the vampire raise an eyebrow when the coppery smell of blood hits the air. Danny settles herself cross-legged on Laura’s bed and plucks a random book from the end of the bed to read while she waits. She wants to groan when she realizes it’s Camus, and therefore Carmilla’s. Of course it is; Laura would shelve hers properly.

Danny flips through the pages spitefully. She’s not taking in any of the words, too irrationally distracted by Carmilla’s lazy, unnecessary breaths from the other side of the room.

Thankfully, before Danny has to start to analyze why it is, exactly, that Carmilla’s _breathing_ of all things is setting her off, Laura walks through the door.

“Hey, guys!” Laura chirps. She sets her backpack down beside her bed and gives Danny a quick peck, before darting over to give Carmilla the same.

“Someone’s chipper.”

“Classes are done for today, it’s Friday, and my beautiful girlfriends are in the same room without trying to kill each other. Why wouldn’t I be chipper?”

“For the record, I never tried to kill the jolly ginger giant. Or she’d be dead.”

“Nope.” Laura cuts off when she sees Danny open her mouth to retort. “We’re not fighting. No fighting.” She redirects her gaze to give Carmilla a stern frown. “And no ambiguous threatening either. Or bragging. I think that might have been bragging. None of that either.”

“Spoilsport.” Carmilla drawls, but there’s the smallest of smiles on her lips.

“I’m ignoring you.” Laura says pointedly, turning her back on the vampire and grinning at the book in Danny’s hands. “Camus?”

“It was within reach.” Danny shrugs. “How was class?”

“Fine.” Laura answers absentmindedly, brushing the curtains out of the way to check for any visible signs of one disaster or another. They appear to be in the clear. She moves with purpose to the door, finally putting the lock on it to good use.

The quiet _snick_ of the bolt sliding into place is hardly audible to her, but both her lovers are up in a fraction of a heartbeat.

“What happened?” Danny is moving back to the window, to check for herself.

“Did you see something?” Carmilla has the baseball bat out and at the ready, even though it hadn’t been within sight when Laura had gone to the door.

Laura laughs. Because how could she not? With her beautiful, hopelessly protective girls jumping to DEFCON One at the slightest implication that something’s amiss. “I’m just really tired of people barging in on me half naked.”

The tension drains out of both of them, visibly, and it makes Laura want to laugh again. Then Carmilla is tossing the bat aside, and Danny is scooping her up, squealing, into her arms. “Let’s get you half naked then.”

“Oh my god, put me down!” She does, setting her down gently on her bed.

“Are you sure, baby?” Danny asks, because Danny always asks. It’s sweet and all, but Laura has been sure for three weeks, and she’s pretty sure that if one of them—or both of them; preferably both of them—doesn’t give her an orgasm in the next twenty-four hours she is going to spontaneously combust from all the sexual frustration.

“Yes. I have never been more sure of anything in my entire life. Will you please just _touch me_ already?”

Like she’s spoken the magic words—and, in a way, she probably has because it’s always like this when she’s with Danny—Danny’s lips are on hers. Finally.

Carmilla appears to have made it her mission to make sure that nakedness is a thing that’s happening as soon as possible. In a blink, the vampire’s tee-shirt has disappeared and quick hands are tugging at the fabric of Laura’s own. Laura pulls away from Danny’s mouth to let Carmilla pull the garment over her head. It surprises Laura a little when she sees that Carmilla has diligently moved on to Danny’s Summer Society tee.

In general, Laura has noticed, Carmilla and Danny don’t usually touch when they’re like this. There had been what she’d walked in on, and they had kissed each other that first time they’d been together, but other than that…they’ve managed to never really touch each other at all. They still aren’t, not really. Carmilla’s hands are swift, the shirt flying overhead, and Laura doesn’t think so much as a finger touches Danny’s skin.

Their hands feel like they’re everywhere. Cupping her face, as Carmilla draws her into a kiss. Kneading gently at her jean-clad thighs as Danny peppers her breasts and stomach with kisses. Brushing up and down her arms with an intimacy almost more erotic than the leading kisses and touches. Almost.

Laura’s hands reach out, one to wrap around Carmilla’s neck and drag her closer, the other to tangle her fingers with Danny’s.

Carmilla moves her hands from Laura’s face, trails cool fingers over the throbbing arteries in her neck, then lower. They skitter over her breasts, around Danny’s kissing lips, and still further down. Pluck at the button of her jeans, pull at the zipper. Breaks their kiss to growl, lowly, “Make yourself useful, gingersnap.”

Laura almost objects that Danny’s mouth is very useful right where it is, thank you very much, but then Carmilla is kissing her breathless again and, shockingly, Danny is obeying. Sliding further down Laura’s body to slip her pants off. Then her own pants. And, dear god in heaven above, that is a _lot_ of leg. A moan bubbles up from low in Laura’s throat and she needs to be touching all that bared skin, kind of immediately.

Carmilla pulls away for a moment, and Danny is in her place. Warm lips, gently demanding tongue. Laura doesn’t remember shutting her eyes, but she must have because when she opens them again, Carmilla has joined in on the pantlessness party, and. Yeah. Laura needs to be having all the sex with them. Right now. Yesterday. Three weeks ago.

“Oh my god, please stop standing there with the seduction eyes.” Laura groans against Danny’s lips. “I’ve _been_ seduced. _Do something_ about it.”

She doesn’t actually see Carmilla move, all Laura knows it that suddenly her panties are gone and Carmilla is between her legs, and Jesus Christ Almighty, _finally_.

Carmilla is unfairly good at what she’s doing. The flick of her tongue against Laura’s clit too fast for a human to manage, the swipe of it across her dripping slit bold, and Laura’s hand is knotted in her hair without her deciding to put it there. She can’t tell if she wants to shove the vampire away—it’s so, so much, and Laura isn’t sure she can take it, this throbbing, aching pleasure sparking in her veins—or force her someway, somehow, closer.

Danny drags her teeth against the column of Laura’s throat, the opposite side of Carmilla’s bite. The two pale dots of a scar scream directly into her hindbrain to _not go there_. Danny hasn’t survived three years at Silas by ignoring instincts like that. She bites down against soft skin, hard enough to leave a mark of her own. Laura isn’t a trophy, something to be fought over and claimed, but if Carmilla can leave her brand against her skin, then damned if Danny can’t.

“Oh _god_.” Later, Laura will remember to embarrassed about the fact that she came so quickly. Later, when she isn’t in bed with Carmilla and Danny and they’re not all naked and Danny isn’t doing that thing to her neck and Carmilla isn’t lapping hungrily at her cunt like it’s the best thing she’s ever tasted. Much, much, infinitely much later.

Carmilla pulls away to smirk smugly at Laura, before pressing several light kisses to her trembling thighs. “Am I allowed to brag now, cutie? Because I think we just set the record for world’s fastest orgasm.”

“Shut up and kiss me.” Laura doesn’t expect Carmilla to comply—Lord knows the vampire seems to thrive off of being as obstinate and infuriating as possible—but, to Laura’s surprise, Carmilla is quick to crawl over her body and press their lips together. It’s softer than the kisses from before, less demanding.

Danny watches the two of them, watches moving lips and darting tongues. She doesn’t consciously decide to slide her hand over Laura’s bare thigh, but the sound that slips out of Laura’s mouth and into Carmilla’s only encourages her. She glides her fingers further up the expanse of pale flesh, further, further…until she meets wet heat and Laura is groaning out her approval.

“ _Ah_! Yesss.”

Well, who is Danny Lawrence to deny Laura Hollis anything?

Carmilla is still at Laura’s lips, so Danny focuses on kissing all the parts of Laura that Carmilla isn’t touching. Her shoulders, muscle bunching and relaxing beneath the soft skin. Her breasts, heaving with shuddering breaths. Her stomach, taut with tension. The curve of her hips, moving to match pace with Danny’s thrusting fingers.

“Fuck.” Laura’s tiny hand wraps around Danny’s wrist, draws her in deeper, harder, faster. _Artemis_. Danny is breathless, just watching Laura move her hand. _Fucking_ herself on her hand.

“You like that?” Carmilla’s voice is low and dangerous. Her lips brushing against Laura’s ear. “Fucking dripping all over her hand, working her inside you. I can _smell_ how close you are.”

Laura is writhing on the bed, hips bucking wildly against Danny’s hand. It feels like the best kind of madness, and Carmilla’s voice in her ear is only making it better. “Yes. Yes. _Fuck_. Yes.”

Her orgasm breaks over her in waves, and she can hear herself shouting but the words are meaningless.

Then, before Laura can ever hope to recover, before she can even stop screaming, Carmilla’s hand ghosts down her skin to find her clit, and Laura is lost again.

“Oh my fucking god, _Carm_!” Danny is still inside her, still moving her fingers with the right speed and the right pressure, and Carmilla’s fingers are devilishly quick, tracing hard patterns roughly against her clit. Laura is pretty sure that this is how she dies, fucked to death by her vampire and her werewolf, and god she doesn’t want to go any other way.

“That’s it, baby.” Danny this time, “Ride it out. Let go.”

As if Laura has a choice in the matter, as if she could stop even if she wanted to. Laura desperately doesn’t want to. “Ah. Ah. More. _Please_.”

Danny sinks blunt, human teeth into the skin of Laura’s hip as she curls her fingers, searching for the spot she knows will make Laura fall apart all over again.

“Oh god.” Laura gasps, a hand finding its way into Danny’s hair, the other tightening convulsively around the wrist still in her grasp. “Harder.”

Danny doesn’t want to hurt her, doesn’t ever want to do that, but the hand in her hair is insistent and Laura’s voice is sure, and Danny has never been able to deny Laura anything. Her teeth sink in deeper, a taste of copper on her tongue, just as she finds what she’s looking for and Laura’s hips make a concentrated effort to leave the mattress.

“Ohmygod, _yes_ , Danny!” Laura can’t stop coming, the mindless undulating of her hips against Danny’s hand, her mouth, against Carmilla’s fingers. “Carmilla! _Fuck_.”

“Tell us what you want, creampuff.” Carmilla’s voice in Laura’s ear again, moving down her throat to suck hickies against the bitten side of her neck. The feeling of the vampire’s smirk and then, “Tell us how you want to come. Again.”

How the holy hell is Laura supposed to answer that? She’s beyond caring about the hows, so long as the whos in question stay the same. So long as neither of them stop.

Except…maybe she does have an answer. A thought, half-delirious from pleasure, lurking at the back of her mind as she moans and pants and _wants_.

“Unh, like we were the first time.” She barely gets the words out, but it doesn’t matter because both Carmilla and Danny immediately know what she means.  The shift is too sudden for Laura to track with her paltry human senses, but, abruptly, she’s sitting up with Carmilla behind her and Danny is still between her legs and Jesus, yes, this is what she had wanted.

Laura can feel the wet press of Carmilla’s soaking center gyrating gently against her lower back, the cool slickness on the other girl’s thighs on either side of her. Hands at her hips for a moment before moving one up to her breasts and the other _down_.

Danny’s fingers are still working inside her, still curling against that spot, and Carmilla’s fingers are back against her clit, hard and fast, and Laura’s breath is catching in her chest as she tries to remember how to breathe.

“Oh god, oh god, oh god.” Laura’s head falls back against Carmilla’s shoulder, moans growing louder and more fervent as she feels another orgasm building. Carmilla muffles her cries with her lips, tongue snaking into her mouth, and breathing really is becoming a problem at this point.

She tumbles over the edge again, some amalgam of her lovers’ names and His poised at the tip of her tongue and swallowed down by Carmilla’s eager mouth.

When Laura gains her wits back, when she remember how to breathe again, she manages to pull Danny out of her. “I want your mouth on me.” Laura isn’t sure where the strength behind those words comes from, but she doesn’t regret it. Because, fuck it, she _does_ want Danny’s mouth on her.

Danny’s reaction is instant, her head bowing to taste Laura for the first time. The hand in her hair clenches desperately.

“There we go. Tell us what you want, Laura.” Laura shudders. Her name has never sounded so filthy before, the way it does leaving Carmilla lips now.

“I want, ah, I want…” Laura know what she wants except more. “Fuck. Fuck. I want.” Carmilla moves her lips to her neck again, and Laura remembers the idea that had plagued her before, that she hadn’t thought she would ever actually ask for. “ _Bite_ _me_.”

Laura gasps, shudders, sobs. For all her research, all her in-depth analysis of what she would and wouldn’t enjoy, it had never occurred to her that she’d ever be in this position. Screaming, crying, wailing because she’s lost count somewhere along the way but she thinks her number of orgasms in the last half hour is approaching the double digits. And she feels wrecked. Obliterated. Shredded down to the atom.

She hadn’t known that pleasure could _hurt_.

She feels hyperaware of everything. Danny’s hands on her thighs. Carmilla’s lips at her throat. Her own whimpering, pleading screams for _more_ and _don’t stop_ and _pleaseplease **please**_ **.** Carmilla’s fingers on her clit, impossibly fast. Danny’s tongue on her, inside her. The cool skin of Carmilla’s arm snaked around her, her hand press-press-pressing Danny’s head down, as if knowing that Laura has lost the strength to do it herself. The smooth sliding pierce of fangs slipping into her neck. The helpless, mindless canting of her hips against Danny’s mouth. The tremble in her hands, the want. She wants to reach out, wants to touch them the way they’re touching her. But her hands are frozen where they are. Fistfuls of bright, bright red and dark, dark brown knotted between her fingers.

“ _Fuck_.” A gasp, a moan, a cry. Laura has sworn more in the past thirty minutes than in her entire life, but she can’t think of a better reason to use all her half-caught almost curses. She hasn’t even started to come down yet, but Danny hasn’t stopped, hasn’t even slowed—can’t stop, Laura’s and Carmilla’s hands in her hair, pulling her close-close-closer—and Laura is trembling beneath her. Teetering on the precipice of insensibility all over again. “I can’t—Jesus—fuck— ** _I can’t_** —”

But she can. She does.

Her breath catches in her throat as she shivers, shakes, falls apart all over again.

Laura’s whole body tenses, then spasms beneath Carmilla’s lips. The blood rushing between her teeth tinged with endorphins and adrenaline; enough that Carmilla thinks she might be able to get high off it, enough that she has to pull away before she loses herself in the taste and sensation.

She’s limp, beautiful brown eyes rolled to the back of her head, body still shudder-shaking in waves of aftershock, when Carmilla realizes that she should probably let the pup breath at some point. She isn’t gentle as she pries the wolf’s greedy mouth from Laura’s still twitching core. There’s a whimper Carmilla can only just hear bottled behind Danny’s teeth, blue eyes stalking a stray rivulet of blood leaking down Laura’s collar bone, down to dip between her breasts, down to collect in the curve of her hip. Carmilla smirks, flicks her tongue out, laves the open wound. Luxuriates in the taste, the remnant of orgasm still in the blood.

The whimper dies inaudible to mortal ears, but the growl birthed in its stead is strong and substantial. Carmilla looks down at her over Laura’s shoulder and wonders if the bitch even realizes what she’s growling for. She’s starting to suspect that the beast well and truly has no idea, and won’t that just be _fun_.

“I think we might have broken the poor thing.” Carmilla purrs, moving her hand from clit to hip, from red, red hair to the soft, soft skin of Laura’s still trembling stomach.  Carmilla nuzzles into Laura’s neck, nose just above the no longer weeping bite, just to feel the thundering pulse beneath the skin.

“ ‘m fine...” Laura breathes out, lashes fluttering as she struggles to even open her eyes. Carmilla doesn’t think she’s ever seen anything quite so adorable in all her long life. She manages finally to crack them a bit, looking at the world half-lidded and barely semi-conscious. The precious thing.

“Convincing, creampuff. Really.” The words are sarcastic, but Carmilla says them lowly, softly, with the utmost affection.

“We didn’t hurt you, right?” Danny asks, hands rubbing slow and smooth over Laura’s thighs. She presses small, gentle kisses to Laura’s hip, lips reverent against her skin. Her mouth grazes Carmilla’s caressing fingers, once, twice, an inexplicable shudder rippling down her spine as she bites back the instinct to whine and beg for something she doesn’t even have the words for.

“No. Yes. I mean, sort of?” Laura stutters. Danny and Carmilla both freeze. A sudden stillness so absolute. The only thing they’ve ever agreed on— _do not hurt Laura_ —and they’ve ruined it. “Not in a bad way. I liked it.”

Laura’s breathing is steadying, her heartbeat slowing. Her body light and loose and pliant in their gentle embrace.

“You should sleep.”

“Mmm…wanna touch you. Both of you.”

“Next time, sweetheart. Rest.”

Laura wants to argue. She wants to give them what they’ve just given her, but her body is limp and unresponsive. There’s some kind of lead masquerading as blood, weighing down limbs that feel more like jello than appendages, and her eyes won’t stay open long enough to bring the world into focus.

Carmilla and Danny’s hands are still on her, so soothing, distracting. Lulling her into sleep when all she wants is to wake up.

“Next time…” She mutters sleepily, and she means it with every fiber of her tiny, tiny body.

Carmilla settles Laura down into the bed gently, before turning her dark eyes on the werewolf at the end of the bed. “You smell seconds away from falling apart, gingersnap.”

“I’m fine.” Words growled through clenched teeth. The vampire isn’t exactly wrong; Danny is so wound up a gentle breeze could probably get her off, but damned she’s going to admit that.

Carmilla crawls over their sleeping lover into Danny’s personal space, stopping bare inches from Danny’s overheated skin. “Are you sure? I could…” Carmilla pauses here, runs a hand up Danny’s thigh. Smirks like she’s won something when Danny’s hips jerk forward without her permission. “give you a hand.”

“Fuck.” Danny isn’t an animal, for all of Carmilla’s fucking dog jokes, she can choose not to do this. She can. She just isn’t sure she can think of a reason why she should. “Fuck. Yes, okay? Yes.”

“All you had to do was ask.”

And then Carmilla is on her, pressing her back against the wall, fingers working inside her like she knows all the ways to make Danny gasp and moan, like she’s fucked her before and memorized every inch of her, inside and out.

“Fuck.”

“Where should your hands be, Lawrence?”

Danny doesn’t actually make the decision to move one of her hands from their position fisted in the comforter. But her fingers find their way to Carmilla’s clit regardless, while her other hand tangles in dark hair and tugs a hungry mouth to hers.

It doesn’t take long before Danny is gasping out the vampire’s name with something painfully similar to desperation. She’s so close, so fucking close.

Carmilla breaks their kiss to purr in her ear, “Are you going to come for me? Going to come all over my hand, Danny?”

Embarrassingly, it’s the words that take Danny over the edge, her jaws snapping down around Carmilla’s shoulder to try and muffle her scream as she comes harder than she’s ever come in her godsdamned life.

She loses the concentration to keep moving her fingers, but it doesn’t matter because Carmilla has a bruising grip on her wrist, working herself to climax while Danny clenches around her fingers.

Danny can barely breathe in the aftermath, lukewarm blood crawling between her teeth and dripping from her chin. Carmilla tosses her hand back, finished with it now, doesn’t appear to feel the bite, the blood seeping from her shoulder and leaking down her chest.

“Put your teeth away, gingersnap.” Carmilla’s voice is…off. Softer, a dreamlike quality to it. Almost hypnotic. The meaning of the words sinks in slowly, and Danny makes a concentrated effort to reign the wolf back in, to bring her fangs back down into her gums.

Carmilla watches her, something nearly clinical in her demeanor, and then she’s lightly shoving Danny into lying on her side beside Laura. Then, despite the fact that she’d woken up literally minutes before this had all began, Carmilla is crawling to Laura’s other side and pulling the blankets up over the three of them.

“Don’t you have creature of the night shit to do?” Danny doesn’t know what makes her ask, but the words are out there now.

“Shut up and go to sleep like a good dog.”

It should make her angry, kind of does a little, but Danny is tired more than anything. So she lets it go, just this once, and closes her eyes. Laura snuggles into her side, soft puffs of breath against Danny’s collar bone, lulling her into sleep.

Carmilla watches them through eyes half-lidded but still wide awake. She doesn’t want to become some kind of parody of her kind, watching her human while she sleeps—or the wolf she shares with, for that matter—but she’s not quite ready to get up and leave the intimacy of this moment just yet. And there’s nothing she _needs_ to be doing. There’re are classes she could get up and go to, but she’s taken them all before, has enough philosophy degrees to paper the dorm’s walls. And she doesn’t need to go find a snack, because she’s already fed.

She doesn’t feel tired, not like the other two, but she’s relaxed. Content. And she’s in no rush to move.

Maybe just a little cat nap…

 


End file.
